


Hellfire

by Geekygirl24



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Creepy Reginald Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Thoughts of Underage and Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 14:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geekygirl24/pseuds/Geekygirl24
Summary: Boys had no right to be pretty. It was wrong… unnatural.Reginald clenched his fist. Ever since Number Four had turned fifteen, he had been unable to get the image of the teen out of his mind, those green/grey eyes looking pleadingly at him.





	Hellfire

The shadows created by the light of the fire were almost demonic in nature, moving and dancing along the motionless stone walls. The rest of the room was dark, as Reginald Hargreeves stared at the glow of the fire, his eyes focused on the flames, his mind turning them into pictures as he tried to turn his thoughts to something else.

Boys had no right to be pretty. It was wrong… unnatural.

Reginald clenched his fist. Ever since Number Four had turned fifteen, he had been unable to get the image of the teen out of his mind, those green/grey eyes looking pleadingly at him.

The boy was a disappointment, and yet, Reginald couldn’t help but focus on him. Watch him frolicking about, teasing his siblings, getting dressed up in more and more extravagant outfits, skirts that seemed to get shorter with every passing week.

Why was he so focused on this child more than the others?

Pale skin, curly dark hair, those damned eyes!

And when he didn’t know Reginald was watching, he walked with an air of confident, a walk that Reginald knew could become feral and sensual. 

That nervous little giggle, the sarcastic tone or the pleading voice when he was trying to talk Reginald into staying out of the mausoleum. 

Reginald remained firm though. The sessions in the mausoleum were for the teen’s own good (not because he looked beautiful when he cried).

That night, after leaving Number Four in the building for a little over eight hours, Reginald sensed something had changed. Even in the dark, those eyes shot out like a beacon, sending a chill through Reginald’s spine… and they were glaring at him.

With the moonlight shining through the narrow gaps, Number Four looked almost exotic and dangerous. Like a wild animal who had survived something horrific, only to carry on prouder and more arrogant than before.

And wild animals belong in cages.

It was wonderful to see that glare break and shatter as he stopped the boy from leaving. For a few seconds, there was genuine fear on Four’s face, especially when Reginald made his way into the mausoleum, shutting the door behind him, enclosing them both inside.

Number Four stood shivering in the centre, as Reginald slowly circled him, eyes focused and enraptured by those dark curls and lithe limbs. The pyjama shirt he had been wearing was now torn from some of the more…. Vicious ghosts, and Reginald found himself tempted to continue their work.

He quickly shook off the idea.

Or, at least he attempted to.

Number Four whimpered in fear as Reginald bent over, one hand on the back of the boy’s neck and face buried in his curls.

This boy could be a marvel if properly tamed. Force him to stay at his beck and call, doing whatever Reginald ordered him. Keep him in chain or a leash to stop his midnight activities…. With a thick leather collar maybe.

He let his finger trace the length of the boy’s neck, right to the end of his collarbone.

Reginald’s daydream was interrupted by the jarring sensation of teeth sinking into his hand. Number Four had snapped, using the only weapon that he had at his disposal. As slender and delicate as he was, he had a surprisingly powerful bite, like prey that had nothing left to lose.

The older man gasped and darted back, clutching his hand to his chest as Number Four pressed himself up against the wall.

Misbehaviour must be punished, and Reginald reciprocated the bite with a backhand across the boys’ face, his cut cutting into Four’s cheek. He waited expectantly, waiting for that submissive whimper of pain or any sign that he was still feared. Instead, Number Four kept his eyes fixed at the ground in defiance. 

Not shame.

No cowering.

Defiance.

Growing frustrated, Reginald darted forwards and grabbed the boy by his curly hair and forced those hypnotic eyes to look into his own once again.

“That’s not very civilised behaviour Number Four.”

The boy just glared at him.

“Then again, you always were a disappointment Number Four.” With every word, he yanked at the curls, until he received a small grunt of pain.

It was a small victory, but Reginald couldn’t help but follow it up with another backhand, before letting go of the curls and letting Number Four drop to the ground.

“You will remain in here until tomorrow morning.” 

Bruises were starting to form on the boys’ cheeks. He would have to come up with an explanation for that, in order to pacify the other children, even if they were the perfect addition to such pale skin.

He was almost girl-like, save for the slight teenage fuzz on his chin.

It ruined the image really.

Torn out of his thoughts as the fire crackled again, Reginald rubbed the bruise on his hand. It was disgusting to feel the pain, thinking about how the boy dared to bite him like the lowest of beasts. Bite him and curse him with these feelings.

Oh, how he looked forward to seeing those tears and look of fear when he went back to the mausoleum. He wondered if Number Four would beg and plead for forgiveness.

Well maybe he would grant it if- no! Reginald wouldn’t entertain such thoughts.

His hand tensed on the bruise. Anger filled his body, anger at the child, the situation and himself for being so weak. 

Something had to be done.

A firm knock shattered the near-silence, just as he finally managed to calm down, the door opening up to reveal Pogo. “My apologies for interrupting.” The ape sighed, “I was hoping to speak to you about Kla- Number Four.”

Reginald remained silent.

“Is it such a good idea to leave him where he is for another day? The other children are growing suspicious.”

“And?”

Pogo frowned, “And I’m afraid such actions may be… rather drastic. Are you feeling alright Sir?”

How could he tell the ape?

How could he tell him how he wanted to chain and break Number Four, to turn those high-pitched giggles and growls into cries of pain and fear. How he wanted to hold down that lithe, pale body and caress that curly brown hair in his fingers. To hear those choked gasps of frustration and anguish beneath a gag (he wasn’t going to let the boy bite him again).

“Number Four needs to stop being so afraid of his abilities.” He managed to force out, “If leaving him there for a few more hours helps, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Pogo looked like he would argue, but wisely chose not to as he nodded and limped out of the room.

With the ape gone, Reginald turned his attention back to the fire, an unfamiliar feeling a guilt filling him. He’d allowed himself to be tempted by the most disappointing of all the children, to have his mind filled with sinful thoughts.

It would never end.

He knew Number Four would continue to torment his thoughts, his dreams and nightmares. The emerald eyes piercing him, luring him in like a sailor to a siren.

He wouldn’t get any relief until he was gone… one way or another.


End file.
